


1x2x1 Week

by Amberly



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:39:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2445770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberly/pseuds/Amberly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entries for the 1x2x1 Week over on tumblr!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: During the War

“Do you have a plan?” Heero loomed over him, hair still damp from the shower. Duo tugged one headphone out of his ear, brow furrowed in confusion. He had no idea what Heero was talking about, and he’d only heard a garbled bit of what he’d said when he came in to the room.

“What?”

“A plan. For tomorrow?” Heero grit his teeth, fingers twitching at his side. Duo struggled to keep the grin off his face, carelessly shrugging one shoulder. Sitting up, Duo crossed his legs on the bed, wrapping his braid around his hands. Heero watched him stonily, eyes cold.

“Not really,” Duo admitted, looking with feigned sheepishness up at him. “I figured, you know. Go in, blow shit up. Get out.”

Heero pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. Tomorrow was their math test. No explosions necessary. Duo was fucking with him, trying to get under his skin. And it was working. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands.

Two could play that game.

“‘Ro?” Duo slid forward, restinga hand on Heero’s shoulder. “What’s up, buddy?”

“Why do you hate me?” Heero asked in a soft, mournful voice.

“I--what? I don’t hate you,” Duo looked stricken, violet eyes wide, and Heero sighed heavily, raising his head to meet his eyes.

“Then why do you try to make my life miserable?”

Duo gaped at him, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs. Heero’s lips twitched. Duo’s eyes narrowed immediately, eyes scanning Heero’s face. And then he struck, hand closing around his pillow and swinging it at Heero’s face with a growl.

“You jerk!” he hit Heero in the back of the head, growling louder as his target laughed. Falling back on the bed, Heero grinned up at Duo, flushed and panting, eyes sparkling with mirth.Duo grinned despite himself, hitting Heero one final time. He left the pillow on his face, flopping down beside him.

“So there isn’t a mission.”

“Sure there is,” Heero snorted. “Your mission is to pass math.”

“Thanks,” Duo rolled his eyes, propping his head up in his hand. Living with Heero was different than fighting with him. And Duo liked the differences he saw. They’d been at this school for a week, waiting for their mission details, and part of Duo didn’t want them to come. He wanted them to be this, just two boys going to school and sharing a room.

“Something on my face?” Heero’s eyebrow quirked. Duo shook his head and licked his lips. Heero was about to ask what he’d been staring at when Duo moved, leaning over him and gazing into his face, braid snaking over his shoulder. His mouth went dry, hands fisting the fabric of the blanket under him. His instinct was to move, to roll them. Duo was an assassin, hovering over him with intent violet eyes. He fought to stay still, breath catching when Duo’s face lowered, his lips brushing against his own.

Heero froze at the contact, heart stuttering in his chest. Duo’s lips were soft and sweet, eyes fluttering shut, and Heero felt his hands come up, cupping Duo’s cheeks as he tongue teased over the seam of his lips. Duo’s lips parted, tongue brushing against Heero’s, drawing a low growl from the Japanese pilot. He rolled them easily, pinning Duo underneath the hard line of his body.

“Duo,” he breathed, sliding a hand in to the base of his braid. “We--”

“If you say we should study I’ll blow up your Gundam,” came the hot retort, Duo’s hips rolling up in to his. He was hard, cock hot and teasing against Heero’s hip. Studying was the last thing on Heero’s mind. But he wasn’t sure they should do this, his brain protesting even a he slid his hand up Duo’s shirt.

“This--isn’t the time,” he murmured, mouth hot against Duo’s neck. Duo growled, low and hungry, hands gliding down his back.

“When? When is the time?” The braided pilot hooked his leg over Heero’s hip, grinding insistently against him.

“After the war,” Heero panted, pulling back. Duo’s cheeks were flushed, his lips red and swollen. But his eyes drew Heero most, hot violet, glittering with desire.

“After?” he hissed, using the leg around Heero’s hips to roll them. They grappled, Duo finally pinning Heero’s hands to the bed. “We may not live that long.”

He rocked his hips forward, the tips of his fingers stroking along Heero’s wrists. Heero’s breath caught, eyelids fluttering shut. Duo was right. There may not be an after. Not for them.Biting his lip, he opened his eyes, gazing into endless violet. Duo swallowed, leaning in to the calloused hand cupping his cheek.

“Please don’t make me wait that long, ‘Ro,” Duo’s voice was low and husky, filled with need, and Heero shuddered. He drew Duo’s head down, fusing their lips together and threading his hand into the base of his braid. Moaning, Duo melted against, hands mapping the scarred flesh of Heero’s chest. His hips rolled forward against, grinding their cocks together.

“Won’t make you wait,” Heero panted, hands delving into Duo’s boxers. He kneaded the firm flesh of Duo’s ass, tongue teasing against his as he rocked upwards. The air the room was hot, thick with moans and the slick sounds of skin on skin.

Duo straddled Heero’s lap, back pressed against his naked chest. Heero had one arm around his waist, mouth locked on to the side of his neck. The other was in his lap, hand wrapped around his cock, their fingers tangled together as Duo’s hips moved. Moaning, Duo turned his head, kissing Heero with hot, open-mouthed intensity. Heero thrust into him steadily, hand moving in time, eyes closed against the mounting pleasure. Duo as hot and tight and slick around his cock, well-lubed and hastily stretched, and Heero groaned as his hips twisted.

“Duo,” he breathed, tonguing the American’s lower lip before catching it with his teeth. Duo moaned again in response, arching back against him and tightening around his cock, panting and growling as the pace increased, Heero’s thrusts hard and relentless. He fisted Heero’s hair, sucking on his tongue as his thighs tensed, cock swelling in their hands.

“‘Ro,” he whined, a shudder rippling through him. Heero ran his hand up Duo’s chest, Rolling his nipple, and Duo cried out. It was too much, the heat stuttering through him, hooking him behind his navel and dragging him screaming over the edge, head thrown back on to Heero’s shoulder.

Heero came with a soft staccato shout, a sudden burst of bliss racing from the base of if his spine to the head of his cock, and he spilled in to Duo with his face buried in Duo’s neck, the searing pleasure of Duo’s body tight against his own.

After, they sprawled together on Duo’s bed, naked and sticking, chests heaving. Heero brought Duo’s hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, fingers stroking Duo’s hair. Duo smiled, rubbing his cheek on Heero’s shoulder, eyes closing as he drifted to sleep.

 

 


	2. Day 2: Our First

“You look like shit, princess,” Duo grinned, pushing Relena’s bangs off her temple and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Heero snorted, setting the bouget he was holding on the side table. Relena’s eyes were half-closed, face wan and pale in the harsh hospital light. But she smiled at their arrival, straightening in the bed.

“Don’t listen to him, ‘Lena. You look beautiful,” Heero stood at Dou’s  side, hand closing around her’s. Relena laughed, soft and sleepy.

“You’re a liar, Heero Yuy. But thank you,” she squeezed his hand, then shot a look at Duo. He stood next to her bed, bouncing with excitement, eyes sparkling. They had a surprise, and Duo couldn’t wait to see Heero’s face. And neither could Relena. Drawing her hand out of Heero’s, she turned towards the bassinette settled next to her bed.

“She’s awake,” Relena murmured, lifting the newborn out and holding her to her chest. The baby was small and red, eyes open and endlessly blue, head covered by a thick thatch of dark hair. Heero inhaled sharply, eyes roaming over her face. His eyes filled as Relena held her out to him, and he took the tiny form tenderly.

“How?” Heero’s voice caught and broke. He was sterile, a result of the doctor’s experiments. Something he’d come to terms with in the 10 years since the war. When he and Duo had decided to have children, Relena was the obvious choice for surrogate, and Heero had ignored the pain in his chest. The child wouldn’t share his DNA, but it was still be his. Theirs.

The little girl in his arms was impossible. She had his eyes, his pouting lips, and she couldn’t exist. Heero cleared his throat, running his finger along his newborn’s cheek. She yawned in response, and Heero felt his heart stop, staring down at her in wonder. He swallowed hard, then looked up, meeting Duo’s gaze.

“Surprise?” Duo’s voice wavered, then rushed forward. “I--when we took down that base, you remember? The doctors? I found a sample. I didn’t want to say anything ‘cause I wasn’t sure it would work, and then we wanted to surprise you…” Duo shifted nervously, fingers wrapped around his braid. It clicked suddenly in Heero’s brain. The way Duo had pushed him to agree, less than a year before. His urgency at doing this now.

“She’s perfect,” Heero breathed, hooking his arm around Duo’s waist and pulling him in for a hug. Duo laughed, arms wrapping around his husband and child. Relena watched them with tired eyes, a smile on her face

“We were hoping the first child would look like her daddy,” she murmured, glowing and bright with happiness. Heero’s answering smile was like the sunrise, eyes filling and spilling on to his cheeks. The baby in his arms sighed, and Duo laughed again, amazed at the small life nestled between them. They stood together in silence, hearts full as they gazed into the face of their first born. 


	3. Day 3: Any AU

He was Yakuza. He was Yakuza and Duo had stars above his heart, stars on his knees, but he still watched him with dark, hooded violet eyes. Still he knelt and slid his hands over smooth golden hips, mouth teasing the salt-sweet skin of his stomach. His name was Heero, and he threaded his hands through Duo's hair with reverence.

"If your men catch us, they will kill you," he panted, hips rolling against the wet heat of Duo's mouth.

“They know we’re negotiating an alliance,” Duo purred, curling the flat of his tongue around the head of Heero’s cock. Cursing, the Japanese tugged at his hair, head falling back against the wall.

“Is that what this is?”

“What? You don’t want an alliance?” Duo looked up at Heero through his eyelashes, red lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to his cock. His gaze was dark, heavy-lidded, and Heero’s knees weakened. It was manipulation. The whole thing was, and Heero knew it and Duo knew it, but it didn’t stop him from wanting this. Wanting those sinful lips wrapped around his cock, that slim-muscled body writhing under his.

“We can talk about that later,” came the breathless reply, and Duo chuckled, rubbing his cheek against the hot shaft. He took Heero back into his mouth, finally, sucking and laving the tender skin with his tongue. Heero was quiet, his moans and soft gasps lost amongst the sound of Duo’s mouth, body slumped against the rough alley wall.

They’d met earlier, in the smokey back room of the club Heero owned. He’d been lost then, half-hard just by the site of Duo in black leather, hair in loose curls down his back. How a man that beautiful had managed to rise through Russian ranks baffled him--untl he was on his knees, sucking Heero’s cock and moaning against his skin.

Duo’s mouth moved steadly, bobbing as he sucked. He took Heero in to his throat, swallowing and working the muscles of his throat around him. Down here, with Heero’s cock in his mouth, Heero’s scent in his nose, Duo knew exactly what he was thinking. Duo hadn’t fucked his way to the top but he wasn’t above fucking a beautiful man to get what he wanted. Especially not when he’d wanted Heero for years, since the night he’d been sent to kill him and found himself flat on his back with a sword at his throat.

“Duo,” Heero moaned again, louder, cock swelling against his lips, hips stuttering, and Duo tasted him, finally, spilling over his tongue and filling his mouth. He swallowed eagerly, licking and sucking at the skin as it softened. And then he stood, smirking in to startling blue eyes, gentle, teasing fingers tucking Heero back in to his pants.

“So...about that alliance…”

Heero snorted. He cupped Duo’s cheek, drawing him in and pressing their lips together, tongue snaking in to Duo’s mouth. The taste of himself made him shudder, and Duo pressed against him eagerly, hands sliding under his shirt. An alliance could benefit them both. And not just in the bedroom. Tugging Duo’s lips with his teeth, Heero flashed him a grin.

“I’m open to negotiations.”

 


	4. Day 4: Civilian Life

They came to this bar every Tuesday. It was karaoke night, drawing a mix of college kids and old soldiers. They were a mix of both, and Heero insisted they go. He wanted to do all the things college kids were supposed to do, dragging Duo along behind him. Duo didn’t mind. He complained and pouted and stomped his feet, but he loved that Heero loved it. He loved that Heero was finally losing the soldier he’d been during the war, even if his obsession with what they were “supposed” to do was grating.

“You have to pick at least one song,” Heero was adamant. Quatre was there, with Wufei, and Trowa was supposed to show up at some point. Wufei opened his mouth to protest and Heero cut him off, gaze turning steely. “Those are the rules. What’s the point of karaoke night if you don’t sing?”

“Do you sing?” Quatre tilted his head, like a puppy, and Duo hid his smile with a beer.

“Yes.”

“We both do,” Duo cut in, setting down his glass and reaching for the selection book. Sometimes they did duets, but mostly they did their own songs, and Duo was already looking forward to seeing Quatre and Wufei’s faces. Heero picked traditional karaoke songs, one hit wonders and 80s’ ballads. He sang with a look of intense concentration, and looked so pleased with himself after that Duo had to fight the urge to kiss him. He didn’t expect tonight would be any different.

“It’s our first time,” Wufei objected, frowning a little as he scanned the song list.

“So we’ll be gentle,” it was deadpan, sending Quatre into gales of laughter. Wufei glared at Heero, and Heero’s face split into a serene smile. “You know, Duo...you were right. Needling Wufei is fun.” Quatre laughed harder, doubling over the table as Duo choked on his beer. Wufei rolled his eyes, grinning a little and writing a song down on a slip of paper.

“Fine. But on your head be it.”

They had a good time, talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Trowa showed up after Wufei’s song, and the blush on Wufei’s cheeks showed he was grateful. The war was over, but the five of them were still friends, settled in Sanc and snatching time together between classes and work. Duo sipped his beer and tried not to lean in to Heero, laughing as Quatre bullied Wufei in to going back for a duet.

It was an hour until close. Trowa’s hand was resting on Wufei’s thigh, his other hand linked with Quatre’s. Duo was just sitting down, having finished his third song, and Heero--Heero was standing up, lips curving in a smirk as he made his way towards the stage, a bit of a bounce to his step. Duo sat, looking around the table with a raised eyebrow.

Heero was a good singer. He had a good voice. But he didn’t have much of a stage presence, and he couldn’t really dance, didn’t really put on a show, but the music was starting and he was strutting across the stage with an easy confidence Duo recognized from the battlefield.

“Hey! What's the matter with your head?” Heero started, and Duo swallowed hard, watching him sway with the music. Heero wasn’t just singing, he was dancing, gliding across the stage and casting a hungry, heat-filled gaze at him. Duo knew this song, he could remember listening to it on Peacemillion, could remember singing it to Heero back when they were 15 and shy, a declaration of feelings Heero couldn’t return, and his cheeks pinked.

Heero finished to thunderous applause, slinking off the stage with a grin on his face. Duo was open-mouthed, staring as he slipped into the chair next to him, arm draping casually over the back of his chair. Every inch of him exuded confidence--except his eyes, soft and blue and hesitant as they met Duo’s.

The braided pilot took a breath, then fitted his fingers to Heero’s jaw, tilting his head and slanting their mouths together to a round of catcalls, and he could feel his cheeks, hot and red with alcohol and the feeling of Heero’s hand closing on his thigh. They kissed slowly. Duo could feel Heero’s other hand in his hair, Heero’s soft skin under the tips of his fingers. The kiss broke, their foreheads resting together. Heero’s breath wafted over his cheek and Duo laughed softly.

“Get a room,” Trowa teased, throwing a peanut shell at him. They looked at each other, and then Heero stood, offering his hand to Duo with a shaky smile on his lips.

“Mine or yours?”


	5. Day 5: Preventer's Mission

Everything was hot metal and the crackle of electricity. The sharp ping of bullets against the walls. Trowa was crouched behind a shipping crate, thigh bleeding steadily, clutching a gun, eyes closed as he counted. Duo had 300 seconds. 299 seconds. 298. And then this whole ship was gonna blow and they had to be out by then or they were gonna blow too and he couldn’t wait. There was static in his ear, the crackle of radio silence, and he cursed. Duo was--somewhere behind. Somewhere behind trying to get their target out, but it was wrong. It was wrong and Trowa--.

Cursing, he unclipped a grenade from his belt, throwing it behind himself and dashing for the door. He made it with only a graze, glancing off his cheek. It stung, and Trowa hissed as he ran, barreling around the corner and throwing open the door and--Duo was struggling against a garrott and turning purple, face red and dark and Trowa threw himself across the room. Their target was--Their target had a wire around Duo’s throat, and Trowa didn’t see red. He saw nothing, eyes flat and mirror-perfect.

He had his knife out before he entered the room, launching himself at a man he’d thought he could trust, a fellow agent. The garrott was twisted and then--gone. Focus was shifted and Trowa heard their target grunt, heard the crack of bone, and Duo flashed him a grin, knife bright and silver-sharp as it sunk in to their target’s flesh. It was supposed to be a rescue mission. Straightforward and brief but now they had 120 seconds to get out before everything blew up and Duo grabbed Trowa’s hand and they ran.

“Heero’s gonna kill me,” Trowa muttered, fingers clutching Duo’s, pulse racing. They were partners. Heero didn’t do field work, and Trowa was supposed to have Dou’s back. Was supposed to bring him home safe. But Duo had a thin red line around his neck and a black eye and there was something bleeding on him, somewhere, staining his clothes. And all because an agent went rogue. Decided last minute he didn’t want to be rescued. “What the fuck happened?”

“I’ll put it in the report!” came the sarcastic reply, Duo’s eyes rolling as they barrelled on to their ship and started to launch. They couldn’t make it. It was too close, and Duo closed his eyes with a grimace as he thought about Heero--Heero waiting back at Headquarters, sequestered in the basement as he poured over the security mainframe. Heero, spread out on their bed, soft skin and hot eyes and the gentle sound of his voice during sex. His throat caught and burned and--Trowa had them out, chased by trails of debris and the rocking heat of an explosion. Duo clapped his back, whooping as they left the base behind, heading towards earth.

Heero was at the hangar, lips pursed in a thin line. Duo swallowed, wincing as he made his way down the steps from the shuttle. They’d had plenty of time to patch up, and he knew it looked better than it had a few days ago. He also knew Heero would know that. Stepping in front of his lover, he grinned crookedly, fingers toying with the end of his braid. Heero’s eyes were scanning him, assessing. The Japanese man sighed.

“I told you to come home in once piece,” he said, finally.

“I am in one piece. All present and accounted for,” Duo protested, swallowing again. He cast a furtive look at Heero through the fringe of his braid. “Can we skip the scolding and go right to the reunion kiss?” Heero’s lips quirked. Trowa was already kissing Wufei next to them, his arms wound around his lover’s waist. Shaking his head, Heero reached out, tugging at Duo’s braid, then dropping a kiss on his nose.

“No. Let’s go,” he took Duo’s hand, leading him towards the building. Duo trailed along behind him like a lost puppy, lower lip jutting out. Heero shot him a sidelong glance, lips quirking again as he lead Duo into the locker room.

“You know, I bet Wufei’s gonna have Trowa bent over his desk in--” Duo’s sentence cut off, Heero’s mouth soft and sweet against his own. There were fingers in his hair, Heero’s fingers, and Heero’s tongue was delving into his mouth, sweeping through it eagerly, and Duo moaned, fisting Heero’s shirt.

“After a mission like that, I was thinking something more like reunion shower sex,” Heero said mildly. Duo blinked, then grinned, hauling Heero towards the showers by the front of his shirt, Heero’s laughter echoing after them.


	6. Day 6: Homecoming

“You think they’ll let me go today?” Heero’s lips were pursed,  corners tugging down. Duo smoothed back his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he settled on the edge of the hospital bed. It had only been three days. Three days since a bomb had been planted in the local Preventer’s office and Heero had rushed in to defuse it. They were supposed to be on vacation. They were supposed to be stretched out on a Hawaii beach relaxing, getting tans and feeding each other fruit.

They were in the hospital instead, Heero on an IV with light burns on one side his body. His hair was singed. And he was sitting in the bed pouting up at Duo mournfully, leaning in to the soft touches to his hair. Duo sighed, eyes darting to the hospital room door, then back to Heero.

“I don’t know, baby...I think they’re still worried about internal bleeding,” he sighed again as Heero’s pout deepened. His lover was the worst patient.

“I’m fine,” Heero crossed his arms over his chest, glaring up at him, and Duo hid a smile. Of course Heero was fine. Heero was always fine. Even when he was blown up, he was fine. Duo shook his head, then leaned in to brush their lips together.

“I’ll talk to the doctor. Maybe I can convince them to let us go,” Duo pulled away, lips quirking as the smile he’d been fighting finally broke free. At least they were home. They’d never even made it on the plane. The universe, Duo decided, was conspiring against their vacation. But they could at least spend the few days they had left at home.

It wasn’t hard to find the doctor and convince her that maybe her patient would do better at home. Away from the hospital, and other breakable objects. Heero was ecstatic, almost grinning as Duo brought the car around. Settled firmly in the passenger seat, Heero reached for Duo’s braid, using it to tug him in for a quick kiss.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tongue brushing his lower lip. Duo nibbled it briefly, then winked.

“The hospital beds are really too small,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows as they pulled into traffic. Heero laughed, resting his cheek on Duo’s shoulder as they drove home in companionable silence, radio playing softly in the background. He was going to have to plan something. Hawaii was supposed to be their anniversary celebration. 5 years together and Heero couldn’t imagine anyone else at his side. And Duo had been looking forward to it, to celebrating and spending time together. Time that’d been hard to come by, lately.

The house looked perfect against the blue sky. Their house, home. It would smell like them, would feel like them, and Heero couldn’t wait to get inside. To spend some quality time with Duo to make up for the botched vacation. Smiling, he climbed out of the car, twining his fingers with Duo’s as they walked up the stairs. Heero opened the door and--froze.

“SURPRISE!” it was shouted,the noise overwhelming, and Heero fought the urge to tense. Next to him, Duo was grinning, tugging Heero in and shutting the door. Everyone was there: Hilde and Relena stood together behind the couch, where they had jumped up when the door opened. Quatre stood in the doorway to the kitchen with Noin and Une, Kathy and Trowa were on the stairs, and Wufei and Zechs were peeking out from behind a giant plastic palm tree. Everyone wore a swimsuit, the ladies decked out with flower leis. There were paper lanterns up, flowers everywhere, and someone had put on what he supposed was tropical music.

“Duo…?” Heero’s brow was furrowed, looking around the room. And then his heart stopped, eyes catching on the banner strung across the kitchen. It was simple, the words “Congratulations” strung overhead with two wine glasses clinking at the end. He swallowed hard, feeling Duo tug away from his hand. Feeling movement next to him as Duo kneeled and reached into his pocket and--

“I was gonna do this in Hawaii...but you went and got blown up,” Duo teased, the slight tremor in his voice displaying his nervousness as he licked his lips. “So...what do you think, Ro? You wanna get hitched?” Heero looked around the room with a lump in his throat. They’d talked about this before, but Duo. Duo hadn’t been ready. Nowhere near ready. And now he was kneeling down in front of their friends and Heero nodded. His face split into a grin so wide his cheeks ached, nodding harder and laughing a little as Duo slid a polished ring on to his finger.

It wasn’t silver, or gold. It was Gundanium, gleaming black, and Heero’s breath caught. Duo had salvaged what parts of Deathscythe he could, holding on to the scraps of metal for something important. Something important glittered on his finger, and Heero threw his arms around Duo’s neck, lips seeking his as his fingers slid into his hair. There were strong arms around his waist, a tongue nudging his, and Heero laughed through the kiss, light and happy amongst the sound of cheering.

“Welcome home, baby,” Duo murmured, soft against his lips, before breaking away, turning to greet their family, hands clasped.


	7. Day 7: Always You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter does discuss major character deaths!

Duo shut the door to the bedroom behind him and slumped against it, eyes closing wearily. This was not what he wanted to be doing. Not today. Today, he wanted to be alone. To sit in the garden and feel the sun on his face, smell the flowers they had planted together, years ago. They’d only started blooming this past weekend, and Heero had been looking forward to a picnic. To lying in their garden hammock with the breeze teasing their hair and the smell of roses in washing over them.

They wouldn’t get that now.

Duo clenched his jaw, sliding down the door to sit heavily on the floor. He wanted to be alone, to walk this house and touch their things with the knowledge that they weren’t “theirs” anymore. They were just “his.” Duo’s eyes stung. He stood, walking through the bedroom to sit on the edge of the bed, where Heero’s scent still lingered. He didn’t want to be here today, doing this, but Quatre had insisted. Had insisted because it would be better to do this now, to rip it off like a bandaid and let the pain gush out and cleanse but--Duo hated Quatre right now. He hated everyone except Heero--who was--

What Duo wanted to do remember was being 15, standing on a pier and watching Heero’s beautiful blue eyes widen in surprise as a bullet ripped through him. Wanted to remember being 15 and seeing Heero still alive after self-destructing, standing strong and sure in the door with a gun pointed at Duo’s forehead. Tender fingers bandaging his wounds and smoothing back his hair and the sudden melt of all that cold ice as Heero’s lips found his on Peacemillion.

Or after the war, after the Gundams were gone. The night Heero got in to medical school, clothing strewn around the living room and candles melting in their holders. The sudden, shocking silence as the door to their apartment opened and Heero bolted upright with his hair sticking up in the back. Wild laughter and indignant huffing as Wufei and Trowa shut the door, calling out that they’d be back later. To celebrate together, as a family.

It hurt, bittersweet and bruising. Duo stretched out on his side of the bed, turning to face the vacant side where Heero slept. It was cold and empty, Heero’s scent clinging to the sheets, and Duo swallowed hard as his eyes filled. Grabbing Heero’s pillow, he buried his face in it, inhaling the last remaining piece of Heero in their house. His house. Heero was gone, had died peacefully in his sleep, in this bed, and Duo’s heart ached at the loneliness he felt. The sudden empty space where Heero had once lived. He ignored the sudden presence in the room, curling tighter around the pillow. Quatre could go to Hell.

Except it wasn’t Quatre. It was Trowa, walking quietly through  the room. Trowa, Heero’s best friend, who had lost his own husband just a few years earlier, when Wufei slipped easily into death sitting in his evening chair, reading a book of Chinese poetry. Who had followed quickly, heart broken by the lonliness. Only where Wufei was gone, Trowa had lingered. Duo let his presence wash over him, fingers still wound in the dull cotton fabric, accepting the dip in the bed as Trowa sat down.

“Heero would be disappointed,” Trowa said calmly, reaching out to tuck a few strands of white hair behind Duo’s ear. Frowning into the pillow, Duo glanced up at him. “You’re up here, clinging to his pillow. When you could be down there, terrifying your grand children by telling them that now Heero can watch them all the time.”

Duo grinned despite himself. Technically, they were Quatre’s grandchildren. Quatre and Relena’s children were his god children, though, and he supposed it fit. He sat up, slowly, holding the pillow on his lap, eyes red-rimmed. His lower lip quivered as Trowa took it away, gently smoothing it back over the bed, his hand closing around Duo’s on the comforter.

“It will be here, Duo. And when we leave, you can come back and wrap yourself in everything he left behind. But your family needs you right now. They need to feel your presence now, before you’re gone. And you need to say goodbye,” Trowa’s gaze was penetrating, his bright green eyes filled with a sadness Duo finally understood.

“Why did you stay? After?”

“Because I knew one of you would need help,” Trowa stood, holding out a hand for Duo. “And you’re both too stubborn to ask.”

“He’s waiting for me?” Duo’s voice quavered, cracked and weary with age.

“He’s always waiting for you. And he always will be.”

“Then let’s go say goodbye.”

 


End file.
